


Tricks of Lyra Potter-Black

by AlexandriaBiast



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Albus Dumbledore Bashing, Animagus, Animagus Harry Potter, Canon Divergence - Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Dark Magic, Durmstrang, F/M, Familiars, Gen, Good Death Eaters, Hogwarts Inter-House Unity, Hufflepuff Ron Weasley, Long Lost/Secret Relatives, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Minister for Magic Tom Riddle, Ministry of Magic (Harry Potter), Morally Grey Harry Potter, Morally Grey Hermione Granger, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Past Albus Dumbledore/Gellert Grindelwald, Political Alliances, Possessive Tom Riddle, Prophecy, Ravenclaw Harry Potter, Ravenclaw Hermione Granger, Sane Tom Riddle, Self-Fulfilling Prophecy, Severus Snape Has a Heart, Slytherins Being Slytherins, Strong Female Characters, Students, slightly AU, slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 08:54:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24967033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexandriaBiast/pseuds/AlexandriaBiast
Summary: Changes in the Prophecy makes Lyra Potter's fate a different one. She isn't there when her parents were killed and Harry was scarred. Attending Durmstrang, Karkaroff chooses her to join the Of Age students for the Triwizard tournament. With the return of the Dark Lord, Lyra still doesn't want to choose a side. A single moment and a few carefully chosen words change Fate.
Relationships: Charlus Potter/Dorea Black Potter, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Blaise Zabini, Tom Riddle | Voldemort/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 43





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Slowburn, friendships and romances.  
> No Lemons, perhaps Limes.
> 
> Italics are usually different languages, so either Parseltongue, or Bulgarian, or French. I will state what each one is when it shows up.

**Chapter 1**

_**Somewhere in the middle of August** _

"Stop chasing the bleeding bird, Lyra!" Dorea called out, not taking her eyes off of her wine glass in hand. She sipped as the stark white fox landed at her feet with a swish of the tail. It smiled cheekily as it spat out a feather or two. "Shift, and read the letter. You still have to finish your assignment for Professor Whirl."

The fox tilted its head and yawned, readying itself to leap onto the armchair beside Dorea. As it jumped, the form morphed to be significantly different. Instead of a beautiful vixen, there laid a girl of fourteen who refused to take her knees off of the arm of the silky chair.

"I swear that woman gives me more work than she does the seventh year," Lyra muttered, sliding a nail into the crease of the letter and slicing it open. "I've already finished it. It was only extra essays on a few Dark spells, nothing too difficult. Oh, it's from Viktor."

_**LP,** _

_**Come to the Cup, I need the luck. Karkakoff convinced the Minister to invite you to the Top Box, best views. He thought it best that you come and cheer me on since he is unable to attend.** _

_**VK** _

"You'll have to be careful," Charlus said from the doorway of the sunroom. He held a wine glass in hand after he refilled his wife's glass. "In some circles, there's been talk of Death Eaters at the Cup."

"Really?" She shrugged, curling up against the large, warm form of her dog Familiar. "I didn't know that. The ticket is for the Top Box, so I should be fine. The Bulgarian Minister will be there, meaning extra security."

"You better come home straight after," Charlus pointed a finger at her, arching a knowing eyebrow. "I don't want you cursing people on foreign land. Not again."

Lyra scoffed and faked shock, wrestling her giggles back. "It's not like I'll start hexing children, Char. If they can't defend themselves, well that is their problem. Good practise for me."

"Lyra Hemlock Potter-Black…" Dorea drawled and Lyra cringed. It was never good when her full name was used, it never ended well.

"Fine." Lyra smiled at their disapproving looks. "I won't charm, jinx, hex, _or_ curse anyone unless it's in defence."

Charlus glared at her, his eyes cold with a warning.

Lyra rolled her eyes and huffed. "Or go Muggle style on them…"

"Good," Charlus smiled with a dejected sigh. "We don't need a repeat of last year."

Dorea choked on her wine as she tried not to laugh in memory of that day. The assailant shouldn't have pushed Lyra that far, completely knowing of the girl's temper and ability. Trying to explain why their son had lost a vital part of his anatomy to his parents was quite difficult. But it was amusing after, and a very good reminder for the other students.

The twenty-fifth of August came quickly and Lyra fastened the collar of her cloak tightly. It might have been a warm summer day, but the night was colder and slightly windy. It wasn't as cold as Durmstrang, she didn't think anything could be as cold as that school. Her boots went up to her knees and were so comfortable she just had to wear them, she didn't want to climb the stairs just yet so Lyra decided to visit the team she would be rooting for.

Lyra flashed her VIW, Very Important Witch, pass that had come with the ticket, and the Aurors that stood by the Bulgarian team's tent lifted the drapes. She nodded in thanks and ducked to get into the extended tent.

There were a dozen hooks on each wall, even a hook to place their brooms on. Most of the team had only shoved their uniforms on before just laying around. Even Lyra knew that they were at their best regardless; she attended almost all of the practices.

" _I swear I used the wrong polish,"_ One of the members mumbled in Bulgarian as he examined his broom. He traced a very small crack in the ebony handle. " _Clara, can I borrow yours for tonight?"_

" _Sure,"_ Clara Ivanova plucked a thick tub from her small duffle bag and chucked it at him. " _Of all night, you mess up tonight. Watch out, younger here. Hiya, Lyra."_

" _Evening,"_ Lyra said as she stepped forward, smiling sheepishly when she didn't catch sight of the teen she wanted. " _Viktor doesn't know I'm here, does he?"_

" _That man is oblivious, Lyra,"_ Ivan said and came over, ruffling her already windswept hair. " _You'll find him out back, stretching before the game."_

" _Stop with the hair, I'm not twelve,"_ She pouted. Lyra tried to fix the parting but gave up, ruffling it even more to look like it was supposed to look like that.

" _Fourteen, close enough,"_ Ivan snorted before clapping a hand on her shoulder and went to get his cloak on. " _Tell that vulture that the game is about to start."_

" _Thirty, twenty-three, close enough,"_ Lyra hummed innocently and patted his bicep. A sour look crossed Ivan's face but even he knew he deserved that remark. He shoved her shoulder lightly before going back to his little space and started to finish shining his boots.

It was still fairly strange to know the whole Bulgarian team. A month after Viktor became the Seeker for the team, despite being at school, he had introduced the team to a very select few of his friends, Lyra was one. She came to all of his matches and most of his practices, gaining a few tips from the team as she also loved Quidditch.

The sky had completely darkened and the campsite was empty save for a crimson form.

" _Next time you send Kann, tell her not to bite me,"_ Lyra said with an attitude. Viktor turned sharply with a nasty glare before he saw her. Lyra knew that look, she braced herself and sidestepped his leap. " _Shouldn't you be in there getting ready? Come on, you know I hate being lifted!"_

Viktor didn't listen, only allowing a sly smile as he narrowed his eyes and leapt again. Lyra didn't move in time, she had her feet swept from beneath her with ease. She found herself chucked into the air before landing on his shoulder like she weighed nothing to him.

" _I am not a sack of potatoes!"_ Lyra cried as she banged her fist against his back.

" _More like a boulder,"_ Viktor grumbled and started walking towards the tent. He pulled the flaps back and ducked under them, carefully jostling the struggling Lyra as she yelled to be put down.

"I am not that fat!" Lyra shouted, reverting to English in her shock and anger.

"I did not say you fat," He said in English, crouching down to put Lyra down. He brought a hand to her hair and ruffled it. Seeing her eye twitch, he stepped back carefully, fully knowing she would lash out. "You need to eat more, anyway."

" _I eat as much as you do,"_ Lyra said, back in Bulgarian. Viktor wasn't the best at English but it was passable and understandable for most. " _That has to count for something."_

" _Yes, well—"_

"Almost time," An Auror called.

" _Alright, I'm going. Bend,"_ Lyra said, stepping forward to Viktor and making him bend a little so she could hug his neck. She began whispering, " _Keep your eye on the score. Don't get the Snitch if the Irish have more than one-fifty. Don't be impulsive and get the Snitch before the time is right."_

" _So don't do a Nona?"_ Viktor snorted as she let go.

" _Yeah, don't do a Nona,"_ Lyra watched him pull the Quidditch robes on his tall form. " _Don't break your neck."_

" _Thanks for the luck,"_ His snort sounded more like a wheeze than a pig snort that was the usual.

Lyra allowed an amused grin onto her lips before she turned sharply, stalking out of the tent.

Lyra was already grumbling by the time she finished walking up the thousands of steps that led up the Quidditch Stadium. It was warm enough for her to wear a shirt and waistcoat with trousers and boots. Even if Lyra was raised mostly around PureBloods, she still preferred the freedom that Muggle clothes gave her. She could walk around without tripping over the bottoms of the robes, or be forced to kick them with each step.

She still preferred to wear a cloak, it gave her a thrill when it bellowed like a shadow. Lyra found that she could always use her wand under the cloak and no one would know that it was her. A good benefit for her.

The Top Box was almost completely full, save for a few seats here and there. There was a large flash of ginger, or several as a whole family had bright orange hair. Lyra quickly glanced through everyone, finding the Bulgarian and British Ministers talking to each other. Or rather, Minister Fudge tried and failed to speak to Minister Oblansk.

" _Minister Oblansk!"_ She greeted in Bulgarian as she walked over to the Bulgarian Minister, who remained silent in his one-sided conversation. The man winked with a slight grin. Lyra paused as the English Minister almost glared at her, before switching to English with an inclination of the head as an apology, "Pardon my intrusion, Minister Fudge."

"And you are?" Fudge said while Oblansk grumbled.

" _I am pretending to not speak English,"_ Oblansk muttered lowly, making her smile lightly. " _Good to see you, Miss Potter-Black, and not at an annual hearing about you breaking the law again."_

" _Not this time,"_ Lyra shook her head, her chin-length hair flickering as she laughed in agreement. She turned to Fudge when his eyes narrowed and he coughed. "Lyra Potter, sir."

Lyra wasn't technically a Black in the British Ministry's eyes but she would resolve that soon enough.

"Potter?" He said. "We thought you were dead, my girl. We couldn't find any trace of you for years!"

"I've been at Durmstr—" She stopped as soon as she saw he was going to interrupt her. She sighed.

"Harry! Harry, come here and meet your sister!" Fudge called over to a boy near the ginger family. He had jet black hair with emerald eyes, almost matching her. Her own hair had been cut to below her chin and was neatly straightened while his was just as their father's was; a mess. Lyra had a tinge of dark red in her hair, thanks to their mother's bright red hair.

"Sister?" He said without even looking at her. There was a tinge of pain in his voice, almost tight with displeasure. "My sister is dead, sir."

"Lyra Hemlock Potter, pleasure to finally meet you," She smiled softly, comparing their heights in her head. They were the same height but he was slightly bulkier than her even if he looked a bit too thin in the face. He wore Muggle jeans and a shirt.

"How do I know you're not lying? You wouldn't be the first."

She rolled her eyes and untucked the necklace. It was a small locket with her initials etched into the front, opening to a picture of their family when they were infants, and a slice of Hemlock flower on the other side.

The wary look disappeared as he launched himself forward, hugging her. Lyra jumped in shock, patting his back gently. Lyra wasn't really one for physical contact when she didn't know the person well enough. Just because he was her twin, it didn't mean she trusted him straight away.

"Aunt Petunia said Voldemort killed you!" He said before letting go of her. She was thankful for that, Lyra was uncomfortable with how happy he seemed to be.

"I wasn't killed, as you can see," Lyra gestured to herself. She felt a gush of cold wind against her neck, reminding her of home. "Alive and healthy."

"Where've you been then?" He said with newfound curiosity. His eyes twinkled with childhood innocence, she wished she still had that.

"Dorea and Charlus took me in, they're distant relatives of Father's. I wasn't even at the house when Voldemort came, I was at theirs," Lyra explained what Charlus had said to her. "They weren't going to give me up."

"Why was I sent to live with Mum's family then?" He said with distaste. His posture turned rigid as he leaned closer. Lyra felt the need to be cautious with each inch he came closer.

"I don't know," Lyra stepped back, glancing at him. "I haven't been in England for almost twelve years. I don't know so don't ask me."

"Where are you staying?" Harry asked before grabbing her wrist and pulling her over to who Lyra presumed were his friends and their family. "Guys, this is Lyra, my sister."

Lyra snatched her wrist back, bringing it closer to her body so Harry couldn't grab her again.

"Oh, my Merlin!" The girl who's hair resembled a mane even if it was braided tightly down her back. "Is it true? Are you Harry's sister?"

Lyra was confused. She was his sister, that was all. Nothing that important or amazing. She tilted her head slightly as she said, "I am. I don't see how this is a big deal? Why do you make it seem like it's a big deal?"

She had turned to Harry, her eyes flickering between the two Potters with a bright smile."It means you won't be alone at the Dursleys' anymore!"

"Yeah, isn't it great, Hermione?" His own smile was bright.

"No more Dursleys, mate," The ginger boy next to them nudged Harry in the ribs with a grin, turning to Lyra. "Ron Weasley, these lots are my family."

Lyra nodded politely to the father and the eldest sons, getting nods back. She turned her head to Harry again. "Dursleys'? Isn't that Petunia's family?"

"Yeah," Harry sighed, he didn't look like he was happy about that. "When are you telling them that you are alive? Where are you staying?"

"I'm not," Lyra stated. "They're Muggles. They have no right to know if I'm alive or not. And don't give me that look. I'm not staying there either. I'm only in England for this match and then I'm going home."

His face turned grim and annoyed, almost shocked that she would say such a thing. "They're your family! I'm your family."

"So?" She crossed her arms and tilted her head, feeling her short hair move with her. "Just because they are blood-related does not make them my family."

"What about me then? Am I not your brother?"

"You're my brother, I can't change that. Mother and Father are dead. The Muggles can drop dead for all I care."

Hermione gasped, almost offended at her comment. "You don't even know them. How can you say that?"

"Yeah, I don't know them so I don't care," Lyra shrugged, glancing at her with an expression void of emotions. "I don't see how this would concern you. This is between my brother and I, not him and his friends."

"Even she can see how much you're worth, Granger," A voice said behind her, Lyra turned to see platinum blonde hair and cold eyes. Those two things were the trademark of the Malfoy Family, just as red hair was the Weasley's, and rounded shoulders the Krum's.

"Bugger off, Malfoy!" Ron Weasley snarled at the boy who's expression of disgust didn't change.

"Watch it, Weasley. I'm not here for you," Malfoy sneered at the ginger boy. He turned to Lyra as he looked her down with an approving look. "Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

"Lyra Potter," She returned and turned to face him. His face reminded her of a woman she had met many years ago. "Say, isn't your mother Narcissa Black?"

"Yes, she is," He smiled proudly as he gestured to his dark-haired mother and blond father. Both PureBloods sat in their seats, quietly having a small conversation as they glanced towards Draco every so often. "Do you want me to introduce you to her?"

"I'll do it myself," Lyra muttered. A hand grasped at her wrist, lifting it up and stopping her from taking another step. She glared at Harry who gave the Malfoy family a disgusted face, matching her own which she gave him. "What?"

"You don't want to be mixed with that lot, Lyra," He said and jutted his chin towards them. "They're not right for you."

"I'll decide that, Harry. I've lasted in Durmstrang with being the lowest rank of the system, I think I'll be fine," She snatched her wrist back, gesturing for Malfoy to come with her. She stopped before the adults.

"Lord and Lady Malfoy," Lyra greeted with a slight inclination of her head.

They stood from their seats, Lady Malfoy gently brushed the nonexistent dust off of her beautiful greeny brown robes. They both tilted their heads in greeting. "And you are?"

"Lyra Potter, Lyra Potter-Black by Blood Adoption of Dorea Black,"

"I remember you, you were not even up to my waist when Walburgia died," Narcissa Malfoy said with a fond smile that didn't meet her eyes. She placed a hand on her husband's arm, looking up at him with a slight proud look. "Dear, this is Lyra, the one Dorea and Charlus took in."

"I didn't realise she was actually a Potter," He said to her in a low voice. "I thought they adopted a child."

"No, they took me in as an infant," Lyra said as the man Fudge introduced as Bagman began.

"Welcome! Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!" The spectators screamed and roared as Bagman announced it. "And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce…the Bulgarian National Team Mascots!"

The Veela were absolutely beautiful women who didn't seem like they were human. Lyra had seen some of them at Durmstrang, only a handful or so in the upper years. She wasn't surprised when the crowd began to become transfixed with them and their dancing and music. Even she was lured to them, but Lyra was used to it by now with Viktor having a past girlfriend or two that were Veela.

As soon as the music finished, the people roared in anger as they didn't want them to leave. Lyra turned to look at her brother and almost snorted, he and Ron had almost gone over the railings, each hiking a leg on it to get closer to the women. Hermione, as they called her a moment ago, tutted and scoffed at their antics before pulling them back by their collars like dogs. It couldn't be helped.

"And now, kindly put your wands in the air…for the Irish National Team Mascots!"

A brilliant rainbow appeared with the positioned balls of light, eventually uniting the balls into a shamrock that rose high against the sky. It was emerald green with a shimmery effect that was actually thousands of tiny Leprechauns piled on top of each other. After the Leprechauns sat across the field from the Veela, everyone quieted down.

Bagman rallied the stadium up for the start. "And now, ladies and gentlemen, kindly welcome — the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team! I give you — Dimitrov!"

The first person on there was Vasily Dimitrov, a Chaser and the Team Captain.

"Ivanova!"

Clara Ivanova came as a blur, zooming past everyone to hover next to Vasily.

"Levski! Vulchanov! Volkov! Zograf! Aaaaaaand — Krum!"

The last Chaser, both Beaters, Keeper, and Seeker flew on, all donning bright red robes and brand new FireBolts. As Viktor did a fancy trick, the crowd went wild but Lyra rolled her eyes. The first time she saw him do that trick, he fell off and planted face-first into the ground. He did that a few more times until he got the hang of the trick.

"And now, please greet — the Irish National Quidditch Team!" Bagman yelled, "Presenting — Connolly! Ryan! Troy! Mullet! Moran! Quigley! Aaaaaand — Lynch!"

And the match began.

Lyra sat in her seat, her eyes flickering between players as they zoomed around the place. She had a thing about Quidditch, she got very bored when she watched it. It was always the same thing. Quaffle scores, Bludger to the torso, fell off the broom. It got boring quickly.

She jolted when the Bludger struck Viktor in the nose, breaking it and giving him a bloody nose that gushed down his face. It matched his robes. Now she couldn't wait until it was over.

She would never let him live this down.

Just as Lyra instructed, Viktor did not do _a Nona._ He waited until one of the chasers, Lyra couldn't see which one, scored twice before he went for the snitch. He was neck to neck with Lynch, both going for it. They were going at a steep angle towards the ground.

"They're going to crash!"

"They're not!"

"Lynch is!"

Lyra smiled as she saw Viktor jut his broom up at the last moment, saving himself from hitting the ground, unlike Lynch. The poor man was run over by the angry Veela as they came over. The women turned back to beautiful creatures before they all cheered and made the crowd go drowsy with their allure.

"The Snitch, where's the Snitch?"

"He's got it — Krum's got it — it's all over!"

Even with his bloody nose, Viktor was proud as he held his head and hand with the Snitch up high.

The leaderboard changed to say: BULGARIA: 180, IRELAND: 170.

Bulgaria barely winning still made the team happy. They crowded around Viktor as he landed and refused treatment. They all remounted their brooms and did a victory lap.

"Ve did very vell," Minister Oblansk said in English, his accent thick on his tongue. He didn't speak English unless he needed to. He smiled, pleased with the results of the match.

"… And as the Bulgarian team performs a lap of honour, flanked by their beautiful mascots, the Quidditch World Cup itself is brought into the Top Box!" Bagman roared into his wand, making it echo across the stadium.

The Top Box was light and Lyra's eyes burned before they got used to the brightness. Two Wizards came in, marching with the golden cup to hand to Fudge.

"Let's have a really loud hand for the gallant losers — Ireland!"

The seven Irish players trod up the stairs, still disappointed by their defeat. They all shook hands and had their names called out, the crowd clapped for them. When the Bulgarian team came up, Lyra wrestled her way to stand next to Minister Oblansk. She gestured to Viktor's face, the older boy shook his head and grinned brightly, raising the Snitch in his hand.

After all of that, the team did another lap around the stadium before coming back to the Top Box. Lyra had stayed there, as did the Weasley family as some of them spoke with Bagman and Minister Fudge.

" _Viktor, you look like an overgrown vulture who just had a meal! Let them fix your bloody face!"_ Lyra complained as soon as he stepped closer to her to hug her. " _You are not touching me until you are fixed!"_

" _Spoilsport,"_

" _Bloody mess,"_

"Lyra!"

" _You'd better go, I need to head home anyway. My twin brother only found out about me today,"_ Lyra mumbled and Viktor nodded. After he mounted his broom and left for the tents, Lyra turned and squared her shoulders. "What is it?"

"Merlin, you know Viktor Krum?!" Ron Weasley gasped.

"Perhaps," Lyra brought her shoulders down and lifted her chin.

"So, Lyra, where've you been staying if not in England?"

"I'm from abroad, I've lived there all my life since '81. I don't have time to talk, I need to get home. You have to stay out of sight tonight, especially if you're Muggleborn," Lyra warned. She quickly tugged a charm on her bracelet and turned on the spot. Her navel tugged and she Portkey'd out of the country.

The house was quiet as Lyra arrived in the parlour room with ease. She staggered as she landed but she caught herself. Charlus and Dorea had probably gone to bed by now, so Lyra simply charmed her shoes silent and climbed the stairs to her suite.

The room was mostly bare with a queen bed to one corner with a single bedside table. Through one door was the extensive closet that was almost overflowing with clothes, through another was the bathroom. A single wall was lined with ceiling-high windows with a small door to the middle that led out to the balcony. Her wide desk took over one of the corners, completely enveloping the space and using it for research.

"Get out of the covers, Duchess," Lyra said as she undid the latches on her boots before dropping them and allowing them to walk themselves back to their space in the closet.

The door to the bathroom opened before she got to it. She showered before dressing in a thin shirt for bed. The black Leonberger dog shimmied herself out of the bed before letting Lyra in and cocooning the girl in fur.

The school year began with the gossip of the World Cup and the Death Eaters who caused havoc afterwards.

The Durmstrang castle only had four levels and it was never warm. The fires were only light for magical purposes, or if you were nice to the House-Elves as Lyra was, your dorm could be nice and toasty. No one had to share their dorm room at Durmstrang, everyone here was a son or daughter to a PureBlood in some shape or form. They wouldn't live in bad conditions or share with others.

For this, Lyra was grateful. Being a HalfBlood, many of the PureBloods tried to shun her but the Potter name still held some weight. It also helped that her mother was a MuggleBorn and not just a Muggle, but many people didn't care. Durmstrang didn't allow MuggleBorns.

Lyra had tried hard to keep a low profile at school but her name gave it away. She had so many questions when she first joined, she quickly became angry and bitter at everyone. She had met Viktor Krum when he was a Fourth-year and she was in her first. His friends did not like her because of her last name. When one of them bad mouthed her behind her back, she had enough and sucker-punched them when they had their wand out.

Viktor had been there with his friends, all of them howling with laughter at the friend who nursed a bruised jaw. Lyra might have been a whole foot shorter than them but she could pack a punch. She was fuming but the group decided to take her in, saying how adorable she looked and made her punch another one of them again.

Right after an easy Ancient Runes class, Lyra was stopped by a squawking falcon. Everyone knew who this bird belonged to. The long yellow beak curved until it turned almost grey, the eyes of the bird were just as unforgiving as its master's. Her classmates snickered at her as they pulled their blood-red robes on and stalked down the stairs to the lunch hall. Lyra wasn't particularly close to anyone in her year, she never took any notice of their dislike for her.

Lyra snatched the note from the falcon's talons before it could slash at her for taking too long. It said a simple phrase.

_**Office, now.** _

Lyra sighed with an annoyed moan. If this took too long, she would miss lunch and she hated missing meals. She took a sharp turn down the High Master's hall and stalked forward until she reached the door at the end.

" _You wanted to see me, sir?"_ Lyra straightened her back as she stood before the desk. Karkaroff sat with his elbows on the wood table, resting his chin on his hands as he looked Lyra down. He remained silent and Lyra didn't move her gaze from looking at the Durmstrang insignia behind him.

" _Relax, you are not in trouble,"_

" _Not this time, sir,"_ Lyra sat down on the leather chair, hiking a foot onto it as she made herself comfortable. She clasped her hands together as she waited for Karkaroff to explain.

" _Not this time,"_ He snorted. " _What do you know of the TriWizard Tournament?"_

" _That Viktor is going to participate, along with Marko, Nicola, Palmen, and Yan,"_ Lyra shrugged, remembering who Viktor said would join him. All of them were in their seventh and final year at Durmstrang. " _It's a test of skill, courage, and stamina. It got outlawed two centuries ago because of the high death toll that came with the eternal glory if you won."_

" _So you've read on it?"_

" _Since you announced that the seventh years may volunteer for it, I have,"_ Lyra raised her eyebrows in question. " _Why have you asked for me, sir?"_

" _You're an intelligent girl, Lyra."_ Karkaroff pushed forward a silver bowl of red laces towards her, he gestured to them as he said, " _Why do you think so?"_

Lyra rolled her eyes as she pulled a long string of strawberry flavoured laces from the offered bowl. " _Viktor said you asked him to participate. You wouldn't ask me to participate because I legally can't because of the new age rule. Even if my existence is unknown in western Europe, I am still a Potter. You would want me to represent our school even if I cannot take part in the tournament. Am I correct?"_

Karkaroff shoved the whole bowl to the edge of the desk and Lyra took them into her lap, happily beginning to eat them as he held a satisfied grin on his face.

" _You'll be joining some of the seventh year students and myself to the tournament which will be held at Hogwarts…"_ He waited for her to process the information.

It didn't take long.

" _WHAT?"_


	2. Chapter 2

_**October 30th.** _

Lyra hated the ship.

High Master Karkaroff had promised that it would be dry and warm. It was neither. Lyra ducked below deck, hiding in her tiny room before she was called when the mast broke the waters' surface.

Being the only student taken from her year, Lyra didn't have to share and she was quite glad. There were a few students from the years above that came but wouldn't be able to be in the tournament, they were there to show off to the other schools.

When the cold autumn air decided to blow hard, Lyra clutched the front of her crimson cloak while grumbling about having nothing to do for the last few hours. Lyra did a warming charm before she could complain again, she did it several more times but each time it would wear off due to the resistance of the robe's material.

She would die from boredom before the ship could dock at this supposed school of Wizardry and Witchcraft, this Hog-warts.

The weight of another cloak laid itself onto her shoulders, the warmth of a charm made itself known when it touched her own cloak. Lyra glanced over her shoulder to who laid it, smiling thanks to Viktor for conjuring another cloak. He smiled also, it reached his eyes and then he stopped. Then he stopped when the ship docked.

The water of the lake gushed off the surface of the ship, the protective shield allowed no water onto the ship as it swam through the waters. The flags of Durmstrang dried, instantly they started to wave and flicker in the strong winds. All the students hurried, but with a certain sluggishness that travelling gave, to the side of the ship that held the docking board. They knew they would have to wait for Karkaroff, Victor and Lyra, before they even thought of leaving the ship.

Her black hair didn't move from the base of her neck as she strutted to the docking board. The heeled boots clicked against the stone and wood deck, then started echoing on the board as she was the second to walk down the thin wood. Lyra was made to walk down second because she would have two people to catch her, if in the unlikely chance that she would trip or slip.

" _When will we be at Hog-warts?"_ Lyra said with disdain in Bulgarian and then complained in English. "It is very wet and extremely unpleasant to be here in this weather. You know I hate the rain."

"My dear, we are there," Karkaroff gestured his hand out to the large castle before them. "This is Hogwarts."

"The famous Hogwarts," She stood and waited for the other students to disembark from the ship. "I still hate this weather."

"My Morgan!" Viktor laughed slightly, startling some students. "Vill you stop complaining about the vether before I..."

"Before you what, Viktor?" Lyra raised an eyebrow, challenging him before smiling in amusement. "I do not know, perhaps quieting down? Or will you continue to laugh so loudly, everyone in Scandinavia can hear you?"

He fell silent but smiled with amusement. Viktor could be a bastard at times, though his heart was in its correct place. Karkaroff waved them to follow him, and as they did, Viktor rubbed his temple and complained about a bad headache.

Karkaroff wore his cloak with smooth, silver furs and the rest of the students had their brown fur matted from extreme use. Viktor's had smooth brown, natural furs from skinned animals. Lyra had been picky about her furs, always made sure furs were taken humanely and yet she found the furs of beasts of Dark Magic for her crimson cloak perfect.

"How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?" Karkaroff asked an older man, Dumbledore as Lyra realised. This Dumbledore smiled, a faint glint of... Of something she could easily place, was in his eyes as he looked at her.

He turned back to Karkaroff, happy and cheerful. "Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff."

"How good it is to be here… Viktor, Lyra, come along, into the warmth. You don't mind, Dumbledore? Viktor has a slight head cold and Lyra won't stop complaining about the cold." Karkaroff beckoned them forward, allowing access to the warmth of the castle. Dumbledore gestured to one side of the entrance hall, into a small room where they would wait. Lyra saw that the Beauxbaton Academy was on the opposite side, in a similar room.

The other school was called in first.

" _Put your hat on properly, Anatas, or so help me, Morgan,"_ Lyra threatened as the older boy's hat laid crookedly on his head. " _You look like a deranged Hippogriff."_

" _Kinda like you,"_

" _I'm not a mirror, Anatas,"_

" _Why are you still wearing your cloak, Potter?"_ Palmen asked, quaking a smirk at her. His eyes flashed a side of mirth that he always had.

All of the Durmstrang students wore their dark brown travelling outfits. They all had vanished their crimson robes and hats because there was to be a small show of Magic as they went in.

" _I'm walking in last, remember? Karkaroff said I had to walk in with him and Viktor,"_ Lyra then mumbled. " _Pride and joys of our school, my ass. He's just showing us off."_

Palmen snorted deeply. " _You're still a Potter."_

" _And you're not going in until you clasp that button,"_ She pointed to the top button of his shirt. Palmen rolled his eyes and allowed her to do it for him.

" _Mother hen,"_ He said.

" _Useless chick,"_ She retorted.

"…Proud sons and daughters of Durmstrang, and their High Master, Igor Karkaroff…"

Karkaroff nodded stiffly and the doors opened. Lyra had a strong urge to roll her eyes as the several rows of people in front of her began the small show. The ends of staffs hit the stone floor, causing sparks before they tossed it to their other hand.

Lyra remembered when they were practising this for a good week before coming here on that dreaded ship. She had been spared because all she had to do was hold her chin up and strut like she owned the place. Lucky for everyone, Lyra did that whenever she walked anywhere. Being raised by a woman who was a Black by blood sure did help her confidence, as did the lessons she brought.

They began swirling and twirling the brass staffs, before they sprinted to the front and a boy began to do some tough gymnastic tricks. He did a flip and Karkaroff nodded again, making Viktor begin to walk. Lyra waited a moment before putting herself in an _I'm better than you_ mindset, and began her way down the middle.

"Is that?"

"It can't be…"

"Viktor Krum!"

Her crimson cloak flourished stiffly behind her with each step, her eyes were lined in black and she wore a dash of light red lipstick to match. Lyra looked cold and menacing, even for a fourteen-year-old girl wearing a cloak that ate her alive. When she passed her brother whose face was white in shock, she couldn't help but allow a tiny, sly grin line her lips.

"Did you know that your sister attended Durmstrang?"

"No, I didn't…"

When the four of them, Safer was Karkaroff's aide that followed him, were three-quarters of the way there, the boy took a burning wand and blew on it. Instead of just simple fire, a burning Phoenix came out and flew a few inches before stopping before disintegrating in front of Dumbledore.

"Albus!"

"Igor."

Lyra hid her eye roll but remained stiff-backed beside Viktor and Safer, they hadn't been dismissed yet. The rest of their school had already settled at the table which wore green and silver. They left a gap for the remaining two students, waiting for them. As soon as Karkaroff went to the table, Safer joined him, and Lyra and Viktor went to join their school.

" _Why, is all I can say,"_ Lyra grumbled as she sat down on Viktor's left. She unclasped her cloak before taking her hat off and fixing her hair to sit straight. " _I hate these hats."_

" _You hate a lot of things,"_ Viktor said, watching the blond boy across from him lean forward. " _Especially anything to do with the uniform."_

" _I hate our travelling cloaks, they're too hot for here,"_ Lyra moaned and pulled at the high collar. One of the Hogwarts girls gave her a strange look. "What are you looking at?

The girl had her nose turned up at Lyra, making Lyra want to lash out at her already. "Aren't you a bit young to be here?"

"None of your business," Lyra said, turning her own nose up at her. " _I don't even want to be here."_

" _We all know,"_ Nona said beside her. The older girl took Lyra's cloak and hat, giving them a slight flurry and making them vanish back to Lyra's wardrobe. Lyra thanked her because Lyra wasn't able to do it herself yet. The Hogwarts students looked a bit surprised at that. " _You've said it plenty now."_

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and, most particularly, guests," The Hogwarts Headmaster began. "I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable.

"The tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast. I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!"

Now Lyra was happy.

Food appeared before them, a large variety appeared on the tables. Lyra piled plenty of food onto her plate, keeping away from the many meat and fish dishes as she couldn't stand them. After she finished the same amount of food that two grown men could eat, she pulled the strawberry soup towards her.

It was an eastern European dish she loved to dine on, especially for dessert. It was made of fresh strawberries that were mashed up gently, then you added milk and that turned it pinky. A dash of sugar and a little white bread, Lyra couldn't get enough of it.

After everyone was well fed, and Lyra polished off a few goblets of water instead of the disgusting pumpkin juice Hogwarts students favoured, the plates were cleared.

"The moment has come," Dumbledore began again. "The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket just to clarify the procedure that we will be following this year. But first, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mr Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, and Mr Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports."

"Mr Bagman and Mr Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament," Dumbledore continued, "and they will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime on the panel that will judge the champions' efforts." At the mention of the word "champions," the attentiveness of the listening students seemed to sharpen. Perhaps Dumbledore had noticed their sudden stillness, for he smiled as he said, "The casket, then, if you please, Mr Filch."

"The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr Crouch and Mr Bagman," Dumbledore said as Filch placed the chest carefully on the table before him, "and they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways . . . their magical prowess — their daring — their powers of deduction — and, of course, their ability to cope with danger.

"As you know, three champions compete in the tournament," Dumbledore went on calmly, "one from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the Tournament tasks and the champion with the highest total after task three will win the Triwizard Cup. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector: the Goblet of Fire."

Dumbledore tapped the casket three times and allowed the lid to open. He reached inside and pulled out a wooden cup filled with blue and white flames that danced. It was placed on top of the casket, letting everyone see it as Dumbledore continued.

"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet,

"Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours…"

Lyra drowned him out. None of this applied to her anyway. She couldn't wait to get back to her room and sleep.

"...Now, I think it is time for bed. Good night to you all."

Lyra just wanted to go to sleep now. After that amount of food, all she needed was to go into a food coma until the morning. Karkaroff came straight to the table, standing just behind Viktor as the students stood.

"Back to the ship, then," He turned to Viktor. "Viktor, how are you feeling? Did you eat enough? Should I send for some mulled wine from the kitchens? And no, Lyra, you are not having any."

Lyra had not even opened her mouth to ask before he said that. She smiled, flushing slightly before pouting. During the dinner, Viktor had tried to swap their goblets but the one she got always had water.

"Professor, I vood like some vine," Poliakoff tried, hopeful for more drinks.

"I wasn't offering it to you, Poliakoff," Karkaroff snapped at him, glaring at the boy's stained robes. "I notice you have dribbled food all down the front of your robes again, disgusting boy."

Karkaroff began leading the Durmstrang students to the doors, they followed diligently and quickly fell in line behind him. Safer stood right beside Karkaroff as he walked, Lyra and Viktor right behind them. She watched her brother and his two friends, one in blue and one in yellow, try and allow them to pass.

"Thank you," Karkaroff didn't realise who he was until he looked at him. His eyes flickered back to Lyra for confirmation. She nodded with a blank face.

"Yes, that's Harry Potter."

Karkaroff turned aggressive and defensive as the retired Auror came forward to stand near Harry.

"You!" Karkaroff spat.

"Me," Mad-Eye said. "And unless you've got anything to say to Potter, Karkaroff, you might want to move. You're blocking the doorway."

" _Come!"_ Karkaroff barked out at his students but none of them flinched, they were used to his sour moods. He marched them back to the ship, some of them complaining about the fast pace Karkaroff set.

" _Nona! I just want to sleep!"_ Lyra complained when the older girl barged into her room for the year. Lyra slumped onto her bed like a child having a tantrum but she sat up eventually and just glared at Nona. " _What do you want?"_

" _Nothing! Just wanted to annoy you. Night!"_

Lyra groaned loudly as she finally got into the bed, taking off the travel uniform they always had to wear.

At least tomorrow she would be allowed to wear the proper uniform that was actually worn in and _comfortable!_ Whatever the material was for the travel uniform, Lyra never wanted to wear it again. The students only ever wore that part of their uniform when they travelled to and from the school at the beginning and end of the year.

Whoever came to her door in the morning, which was Viktor, was attacked by a furious snow fox. Luckily for him, he was used to this from Lyra. he caught the jumping fox and quickly entered her room fully, easily chucking the Animagus back on the bed before saying what Karkaroff told him to say.

" _It is not six am already!"_ Lyra shouted as she got changed into her uniform. Viktor had turned his back but stayed in the room, fully knowing that if he didn't stay there to make sure she got up and ready, Lyra would sneak back into her bed.

" _It is,"_

" _No. It feels like I've slept only a few minutes of sleep!"_ Lyra pouted before she stood at the end of the bed.

" _What will get you to stop complaining?"_

And that is how Viktor Krum ended up carrying a snow fox in his arms. Lyra refused to shift back until they were in the Great Hall and they all sat down. She didn't eat breakfast anyway, so she could bask in the warmth for a few extra minutes as she awoke completely.

She was _not_ a morning person.

The Goblet had been moved to the Entrance Hall, several students milled around it and ate their breakfast as they did so. Lyra grumbled as Karkaroff had forced her to get up at six o'clock along with the rest of Durmstrang. She wasn't even putting her name in and she still had to get up early. The thirty Durmstrang students went and sat back down at the Slytherin table for breakfast.

" _Shut up, Lyra,"_ Nona grumbled and shoved the coffee cup towards her. " _Drink, or you'll become a bitch again."_

" _I'm always a bitch,"_ Lyra countered but still took the coffee and began to nurse it.

" _We know,"_ Nona smiled fondly before shoving toast and jam towards the girl.

"Hey, Lyra!"

She paused, her eye twitching slightly. Lyra already knew that voice. She sighed as she turned around, the older students around her did the same.

"Yes?"

"I, er," Harry stuttered as he saw the blank looks the Durmstrang students gave him. He went to fix his blue and bronze tie that was crooked. "I didn't know you attended Durmstrang."

"Well, I do," Lyra said as she turned so her back touched the table and her boots were on the other side of the bench. She leaned back with her arms crossed, the Durmstrang military-style cloak complimenting her hair and bright eyes. "So?"

"Well, I thought we could talk,"

"Why?"

"You're my sister, Lyra. Why shouldn't we talk?"

"The only reason you know about me is because Minister Fudge had introduced us," Lyra shrugged. "You're the Boy-Who-Lived, I'm a Potter-Black. We're special in our own ways but our Potter blood is the only connection we have. I'll be civil towards you, perhaps friends, but I have a family."

She gestured to the group which tightly sat around her.

"Yeah, Black. I need to talk to you about the Black Family," Harry said, becoming confident as Hermione came behind him with Ron. "Privately."

Lyra paused, thinking before she nodded to Nona, " _I'll be back."_

" _Don't get lost!"_ Nona called out as Lyra stood up from the benches and gestured for Harry to walk.

" _I'm not you!"_ Lyra sent the middle finger back as she knew Nona was sending her one.

Ron looked into a random classroom, waving them in when the coast was clear. The classroom was bare, not even desks or chairs. Completely unused. Lyra walked in, her kneehigh boots clicked satisfyingly against the stone. She stopped in the middle and turned sharply to face them, her wand in hand as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"Spill."

"I would believe you've heard about Sirius Black last year,"

"And?" Lyra tapped her maroon nail against the wand, impatiently. "Why is that important?"

"Well, we found out that he's innocent, he—" Harry stopped as he saw Lyra unravel her arms and flick both wrists, quickly bringing a Silencing Charm around the room. He wasn't surprised by how quickly she did it.

"You've got to be kidding me?" She paced. "Sirius Black, innocent? Where's your proof?"

"Sirius didn't tell Voldemort where our parents were! Pettigrew, the rat, he was the one to tell him where they hid. He was the secret keeper and he's still alive!" Harry's anger multiplied. "Pettigrew confessed and all three of us heard it!"

"Fine. Alright, I believe you," She sighed, rubbing her face a little. "I don't see why you're telling me. It's not like he's any of my business."

"You should know. He's my GodFather and you're my sister," Harry hesitated slightly, almost flustered and this made Lyra stop her pacing. "I've never had a proper family before Hogwarts. Sure, I've got my friends and the Weasleys, but they're not my blood."

Her eyebrows furrowed. "What about the Dursleys?"

"They're horrible, point-blank. I—" He gulped dryly. "They starved me if I did accidental Magic, or disobeyed them, or did better than Dudley."

Her voice was small, barely audible as newfound anger reached her centre. "What?"

She was so shocked, so angry, so enraged. How could anyone _starve_ a child as punishment? Sure, Charlus and Dorea did it when Lyra refused to eat what was made, but starving a child for doing well in school, or do something they couldn't help like accidental Magic? That was abuse. Inexcusable abuse.

Lyra didn't care if they were Muggle, they were family.

It was disgusting.

"Er—" Harry tried to start.

"Mate, you might want to try and calm her down. Look, her hair's being infused with her Magic with how angry she is," Ron said, gesturing wildly as he and Hermione stepped back.

"Lyra, calm down!" Harry placed both of his hands onto her biceps, shaking her a little. "It's not that bad!"

"Not that bad? Not that bad!?" Lyra shook herself out of his grip and her shock. "The people who are supposed to look after you have been starving you, harry. HOW IS THAT NOT THAT BAD? It's disgusting, and I can't do anything to stop it!"

"You don't need to do anything,"

"You might be older by an hour, but I know better about stuff like this. I'll see what I can do with the situation," Lyra mumbled, quickly leaving the room. She needed to send her guardians a strongly worded note (thinly veiled threat) which they would completely understand.


	3. Chapter 3

**31st October**

After convincing the blonde boy, Draco Malfay as she remembered him as, Lyra was able to use his owl to send a letter out to Dorea and Charlus.

She was surprised by how small Hogwarts grounds were, at least compared to Durmstrang's. Where they had rolling mountain tops and cliffs of ice that you could shove someone off of them and they'll never be found, Hogwarts had rolling hills and that forest looked beautiful.

It was strange to look at such a beautiful place so far away from Durmstrang. It wasn't like she had never seen a place like this, after all, she was raised Purebloods of a high society. She spent her summers in various places in the world that many would never get to experience.

She spent the day mostly alone, save for the company of Duchess, her canine Familiar. Lyra had shifted into her fox form, staying in that as she explored the Hogwarts' grounds. Her favourite place so far was the Forbidden Forest. Why they would have a forest that was easily accessible and forbidden did not make sense to her.

It was too easy to go in unnoticed.

At around one in the afternoon, after half hour of walking around the castle with no clue how the fuck to get back to the main hall, Lyra found the Room of Requirement.

For her, it turned into a room full of books and piano played music in the background. There was a window facing the very same cliffs her own dorm room did at Durmstrang. How did the room know she was already homesick? She didn't question it, only curling up on one of the huge couches the room conjured up with a fat volume and Duchess across her feet.

》《》《》《》《

Dinner was fine, it was too British for her tastes but decent enough to eat without complaining.

"Well, the Goblet is almost ready to make its decision," Dumbledore grinned, waiting for the plates to be cleared away. "I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them to please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber where they will be receiving their first instructions."

Dumbledore gave his wand a wave, making the Goblet of Fire go blue with sparkling flames. It spitted a bit before going quiet. Students looked to their wristwatches, waiting impatiently for it to spit the first name out.

The parchment was slightly crisp and burnt around the edges.

"The champion for Durmstrang…will be Viktor Krum."

 _"Told you!"_ Lyra cried along with the rest of the small group. _"It was you, or Nona, and we all know that would have ended!"_

 _"Oi,"_ Nona jabbed her in the ribs. Lyra grinned as Viktor rose from the table.

"Bravo, Viktor!" High Master Karkaroff boomed over the applause. "Knew you had it in you!"

The Of Age Wizard trod down the Great Hall and into the chamber to the side.

"The champion for Beauxbatons," Dumbledore announced, "is Fleur Delacour!"

Lyra watched a beautiful woman stand from the blue house, Ravenclaw. She saw Harry congratulate her, as did Hermione but to a lesser degree of enthusiasm.

"The Hogwarts champion," He called, "is Cedric Diggory!"

The applause was outrageous. The yellow house jumped to their feet with a roar of applause. Ron sat there, grinning like a mad man as the somewhat handsome boy stood up and left.

"Excellent!" Dumbledore grinned as everyone turned quiet after a full minute of applause for Cedric. "Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real—"

Dumbledore stopped mid-sentence. A sudden splurge of sparks shot out of the Goblet, turning it red with a long flame-spitting another bit of parchment. Dumbledore caught it effortlessly and read it, sighing softly before he looked into the crowd.

"Potter!"

Lyra looked up, confused for a second as Harry stood from his table. He looked as confused as she was. Harry didn't seem the type to get into more trouble than he could handle.

"Harry, come up please," The old man waved a hand to hurry him up.

 _"What happened?"_ Lyra asked the people around her, leaning forward as the rest of the Durmstrang lot huddled a bit closer together.

 _"Don't know."_ Nona said.

Anatas paled. " _Karkaroff looks angry."_

Dumbledore turned to Karkaroff who had stepped closer to whisper something in his ear. His voice bellowed in slight anger. "Lyra Potter."

"Miss Potter-Black, come down," Dumbledore said again but Lyra refused to move. What was going on? Why was she being called down?

" _Lyra, now!"_

She huffed before getting up from the benches, strutting down the wide lane between tables. Lyra held her head high. She had no idea what was happening but she just did as told for now.

The true Champions stood around the fire. Viktor Krum stood to one corner of the fireplace, his shoulders hunched a little and only relaxing when he saw Lyra. Two chairs sat in front of the fire. Cedric Diggory sat in one while Fleur sat in the other, both waiting. Harry stood to one side of Cedric and began to talk to him in a low voice.

Lyra quickly walked over to Viktor. _"My name came out of the Goblet, mine and my brother's."_

_"What do you mean? There was an age line."_

_"The age line stopped us from putting our names in ourselves. Other people can put it in for us. There was a reason I told you all to not put my name in."_

Ludo Bagman waltzed into the room, trying to shepherd the Potter twins closer but they stood where they were. Both twins didn't look at all happy to be there.

"Extraordinary. Let me introduce the fourth and fifth TriWizard Champions!"

Fleur smiled with a shake of her head. "Vairy funny joke, Meester Bagman."

"Not a joke. Their names just came out of the Goblet."

"Zair 'as been a mistake," Fleur frowned deeply as her eyes scattered to Harry then Lyra. "Zhey cannot compete. Zhey are too young."

"The age restriction was only done this year to be extra safe. It's in the rules, they have to take part."

"And forfeiting wouldn't work, we would need to try each and every task." Harry said, looking to Cedric as he nodded in understanding.

The adults strode in, with Professor McGonagall sending a silencing spell towards the doors to prevent eavesdropping from the other students. Fleur was quick to stand up, going straight to her Headmistress.

"Zey are saying zat zese children are to compete also!"

Both Potters just blankly watched her speak.

"What is ze meaning of zis, Dumbly-dorr?" Madame Maxime rose to her full height with a slight sneer.

Karkaroff walked over to his students, clasping a comforting hand onto both their shoulders. "We agreed to one champion each. Lyra was only brought to watch the tasks, not partake in them. I doubt either Potter wants to take part."

He looked to Harry who just shook his head.

"C'est impossible," Madame Maxime tried to comfort Fleur with a hand on her shoulder. "'Ogwarts _and_ Durmztrang cannot 'ave two champions each. It is most unjust for us."

"We were under the impression that your Age Line would keep out younger contestants, Dumbledore." Karkaroff scowled.

"The Age Line would prevent us from putting our names in, other people could do it for us," Harry muttered. "It's a loophole in the design. But since the Goblet itself can't be charmed or changed, Headmaster Dumbledore had to improvise something that would prevent the majority of the school."

"Meaning someone put the name Potter into the Goblet, probably under another school's name so it would be the only name and so would be chosen for sure." Lyra finished. "And with the high chance of getting a task that could prove fatal towards any of us, regardless of age, they are trying to find a way to kill us or hurt our reputations."

Both headmasters of Hogwarts and Durmstrang tried to get their extra champions out of the running but it was no use, they were stuck in the tournament and would have to compete.

Soon enough, Bagman informed them of the tasks. "The first task will take place on November the twenty-fourth, in front of the other students and the panel of judges. The champions are not permitted to ask for or accept help of any kind from their teachers to complete the tasks in the tournament. The champions will face the first challenge armed only with their wands. They will receive information about the second task when the first is over. Owing to the demanding and time-consuming nature of the tournament, the champions are exempted from end-of-year tests."

**》《》《》《》《**

_"Lyra, will you stop pacing? You will make yourself and Duchess sick,"_ Karkaroff complained as he sat with his two students in the office of the ship. Lyra sunk into one of the wooden chairs, groaning as she dug her palms into her eyes.

_"I didn't even want to be here and now I have to take part. How is that fair?!"_

_"I wanted an easy year. I get in trouble every year. First for having a Familiar, second for doing the Blood Magic, third for punching Zucker. And now fourth year consists of me getting into a tournament which I shouldn't even be part of."_

Viktor chuffed but tried to hide his laughter as Karkaroff glared at him. _"Even you have to agree, High Master, that last year's antics were amusing."_

Karkaroff just glared blankly at him before he looked away with a slight grin. He swirled the glass of Fire Whiskey in his hand, sipping at it before speaking. _"That is true. He was warned multiple times. I'll speak to the students, have them keep an eye and an ear out for any information or Intel that could tell us why this happened. Both of you go to bed. I want you both rested from now on. You need to stay alive."_

Both students nodded once, standing at attention for a moment before almost marching out of the room to get back to their dorm.

What a long day.

* * *

_**Sorry for the long ass wait. Corona had me by the neck trying to catch up on school work, and my obsession with Hannibal did not help my writer's block for both Rebekah and Lyra. And now I also have Writer's block for my Hannibal FF too. How wonderful!** _


End file.
